


Can I be Close to You?

by myemergence



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23486836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myemergence/pseuds/myemergence
Summary: “Woah, woah,” Chim laughs, “please, Buck, do not tell us what or who it is you’ve been dreaming about.”**A fic written for a prompt on the Buddie discord, about forehead kisses. Fluff ensues.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 677





	Can I be Close to You?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Nicole](https://bighimboenergy.tumblr.com/) for the beta. You are a gem!

The first time it happens, Buck thinks he’s imagining things.

Buck’s loft is being remodeled, and the ruckus the contractors have been making for three days is driving him crazy. He hasn’t been able to sleep past seven in the morning and he feels like he’s constantly in the contractor’s way. So when he drops by Eddie’s on their day off unannounced, he already feels like he’s fading fast.

His legs, which usually lead him in long strides, barely shuffle. “Well aren’t we a ray of sunshine today.” Eddie teases as Buck shuffles past him and inside the house.

“Coffee,” Buck grumbles, running his fingers through his bedhead haphazardly. 

Eddie smirks as he leads him into the kitchen, pouring two steaming mugs of coffee from the pot. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of your smiling face at seven-thirty in the morning on my day off?”

Buck accepts the cup of coffee from Eddie and takes several long swallows before he lets out a quiet hiss, he’s so tired that the burning heat of the coffee takes a few moments to register. “Sorry,” he apologizes.

Eddie shrugs, joining Buck at the table with his coffee. “What’s going on? You look terrible.”

“The contractors have been busy working for days…”

“...isn’t that what they’re supposed to be doing?”

“Well, yeah, but not so _noisily_ ,” Buck whines dramatically.

“You are really worse than Christopher, aren’t you?” Eddie rolls his eyes, taking a few sips from his mug. 

“ _Eddie_.”

Eddie chuckles, then, “Christopher is with abuela this morning, he won’t be back until the afternoon. You should crash on the couch while the house is quiet and you have the chance.”

“I didn’t come to your house to take a nap.”

“Well, I am not going to have my morning off disturbed by someone _whining like a child_ because they’re exhausted and need a nap,” Eddie pauses, then steps into the other room before coming back with a hardcover children’s book in hand.

“What is this?” Buck asks unenthusiastically, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. He realizes that he is being cranky and probably bordering on ridiculous, but he’s so exhausted that he can’t think straight. 

“It’s a Mo Willems book I used to have to read to Christopher when he was tired and didn’t want to go to sleep, called _I Will Take a Nap_.” Eddie raises his brow as he looks at Buck. “Am I going to have to read it to you?”

“Do I look like I’m five?”

“Do you look like you’re five? No. Are you acting like you’re five? _Maybe_. Though I think three or four would be more accurate.”

Buck narrows his eyes as he stands, leaving his half-empty mug on the table. “You suck, you know that?” Buck watches as Eddie shrugs, though not arguing before he walks to the living room. He flops himself down onto the couch dramatically, stretching himself out and resting his head on a throw pillow.

“Christopher is going to be home at one. If you don’t take a nap, you don’t get to play,” Eddie calls out, making his way to the laundry room and leaving Buck to settle himself on the couch.

Buck shifts a few times before yawning loudly into the crook of his elbow. “It’s not like I can just,” he muffles another yawn, “I can just fall asleep on command.”

Although he insists that it isn’t possible, the house is quiet unlike his loft, and Buck drifts off to sleep within minutes.

He isn’t sure how long he sleeps there, but the first time that he opens his eyes he realizes that there is a white throw blanket over his shoulders that wasn’t there before, and Eddie is nowhere to be seen. He grumbles as he shifts on the couch, considers getting up, but closes his eyes instead. He might as well take advantage of this chance to catch up on sleep.

Buck is drifting back into unconsciousness, his breath slow and even as the darkness blankets him. 

_Eddie and Buck are at a playground with Christopher, who is pleading with Buck to push him higher, higher, higher. Buck laughs but obliges, who is he to deny the kid? Eddie settles at Buck’s side with ease, reaching a hand out for Buck’s and Buck smiles, something warm settling in his chest. He feels a brush of lips against his forehead._

But it can’t be Eddie, his subconscious reasons, Eddie is beside him and he is pushing Christopher’s swing. Buck’s eyes remain closed for a minute, trying to sort through his thoughts. He blinks his eyes slowly, looking around Eddie’s living room as he sits up.

“Are we feeling any better?” Eddie asks from the other side of the room, where he’s sitting with a book in his hands.

“Uh, yeah…” Buck hesitates briefly before he flashes a bright smile at Eddie. “Thanks for letting me crash.” 

Eddie shrugs. “I wasn’t going to have a miserable man-child stomping around all day.” His face breaks out in a smirk as he sets his book down.

“Hey man, _rude_.” Buck rolls his eyes at Eddie, “when will Chris be home?”

“In about an hour,” Eddie answers as he stands up, “I made lunch if you’re hungry.”

“ _If_ I’m hungry.” Buck scoffs a laugh and joins Eddie, following him to the kitchen.

**

Buck is sitting upstairs at the firehouse, it’s been a fairly quiet shift and, with his chores all done, Buck finds himself unable to stop thinking about the dream he had while napping at Eddie’s house. The way that his fingers slotted so perfectly in between Eddie’s and the lips that he is _convinced_ he felt against his forehead, but fit nowhere in the dream. He huffs out a sigh as he taps his fingers against the hard surface of the table. 

“You might not want to think so hard,” Chimney smirks, “you might actually cause some permanent damage.”

Buck glares at him.

Hen sits beside Buck and sets her hand lightly on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind Buckaroo?”

“I don’t know,” Buck sighs. “I had this _dream_ the other day, and I just… Do you ever have a dream and you feel like maybe it means something? The dream _logically_ doesn’t make any sense, so there has to be some explanation for it, right?”

“Dreams don’t have to be logical,” Hen answers easily after a moment. “For the longest time, I kept having dreams with a recurring theme. So, after the third time, I looked it up. Apparently it just meant that I was having stress about certain areas of my life.”

“Woah, woah,” Chim laughs, “please, Buck, do not tell us what or _who_ it is you’ve been dreaming about.”

“I’m sure we already know,” Hen says quietly, covering her words with a cough. 

Chim exchanges a knowing look with Hen, shaking his head wordlessly. 

“Chim, you have been no help at all as usual. Hen, you’re a saint.” Buck places a loud kiss against her cheek and gets up and excuses himself from the table. 

**

Buck is an idiot. He researches everything from natural disasters, to abibliophobia, to why dung beetles eat their own poop. Yet when he had a dream about Eddie that didn’t make sense, why did researching dream analysis never cross his mind? It seemed so _obvious_ after Hen mentioned it during their shift. 

After their shift ends, Buck spends the better part of his evening analyzing the dream, more specifically, researching forehead kisses. The problem is, now Buck feels even more confused than he was before. His research brings unexpected results. Apparently Buck dreaming about Eddie kissing him on the forehead either means that Buck is dissatisfied with the relationship between them, or that Eddie is dissatisfied or unhappy with Buck.

Had he done something to upset Eddie?

Now as he sits piled on the couch with Eddie and Christopher for movie night, watching Toy Story 4 for the sixth time, Buck is unable to keep his mind from wandering. After the movie ends, Buck tucks Christopher in bed at the boy’s request and makes his way back down the hall to the kitchen where Eddie is packing up the leftovers and putting them in the fridge. Eddie turns around, offering a beer to Buck. “Stay for a beer?”

Buck takes the bottle without hesitation, taking a few long pulls from the bottle. More than most things in his life, Buck has really come to enjoy these nights, just getting to spend some quality time with the Diaz boys. These evenings are so effortless. When he is here, Buck feels like he belongs.

“Did Chris tell you about the science fair?” Eddie asks, grabbing his beer and leading the way into the living room.

Buck sits down on the couch, settling back into it. “What? No, he hasn’t said anything about it yet. What is he waiting for?”

“I’m sure he’s just coming up with the perfect project to impress you with,” Eddie chuckles, bringing his beer up to his lips.

“He doesn’t have to do anything to impress me, he’s an impressive kid without even trying.”

Eddie smiles, and Buck struggles to read his expression. He finds himself wandering back to his earlier thoughts, making it a struggle to focus. “Buck?”

He clears his throat, holding the beer by its neck, bottle propped against his leg. “Yeah?”

“You alright, man? I feel like I lost you for a second there.”

“I’m good,” Buck promises. Eddie raises his brow in disbelief. “Just getting myself all turned around over nothing.”

“Do you want to talk to me, your very wise best friend about it?” Buck laughs at Eddie, draining the last of his beer.

“I think I’ll grab another beer instead.” Buck grabs their empty bottles and leaves them in the sink before grabbing fresh bottles from the fridge. 

“Come on man, we tell each other everything.”

Buck laughs, “Okay, street fighter.”

“That was one time.”

“One time?” Buck challenges and they both laugh quietly. 

Their banter continues with its normal give and take, and soon they are finishing their fifth beer. Eddie muffles a yawn, and Buck looks at the clock. He’s not sure when they lost track of time, but now it’s nearly one in the morning. “It looks like you’d better be heading to bed, old man.” Buck chuckles, “I’d better get going.”

Eddie looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “You’re not driving home tonight.”

“Eddie-”

“We’ve been drinking and it’s late. Besides, Christopher will be over the moon if you’re here when he wakes up in the morning.”

“Unfair of you to throw Christopher into this.” Buck points out but shrugs after a moment, “but, yeah, I’ll crash on the couch.”

Fifteen minutes later Buck gets settled on the couch, legs stretched out as much as space will allow. His eyes close, and he’s letting his mind wander back to his research. Eddie didn’t _seem_ like he was mad. They had watched the movie with Christopher like usual, and even talked long enough to have a couple of extra beers.

The room is dimly lit, a nightlight left on in case Christopher wakes in the middle of the night. Eddie left Buck so that he could get himself ready for bed about ten minutes ago. Buck has been lying still, hoping that he can make sense of his earlier dream. 

He’s analyzed the dream more times than he can count and he still hasn’t been able to make sense of it. Buck and Eddie taking Chris to a playground is a completely normal thing to do, they take him on outings together all the time. The handholding, he’s sure, has something to do with his unspoken feelings for Eddie and hopes of what could be. The one thing that Buck keeps struggling to comprehend is how real the kiss felt. 

He’s just starting to doze off when he feels a warm press of lips against his forehead. 

His heart hammers in his chest. This - he isn’t dreaming, is he? Buck lies still until he hears Eddie’s footsteps pad away from the living room. When Buck hears Eddie’s bedroom door click closed, he opens his eyes.

“Fuck,” Buck whispers to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It wasn’t a dream.” The realization dawns on him, his forehead feeling cold in the absence of Eddie’s lips.

How the hell was he going to sleep now? 

Buck moves again, trying to get comfortable and allow his thoughts to settle. But they are just not having it, his thoughts are loud, and they have a lot to say. _Buck, you dumbass, you’ve been wondering what those lips would feel like for far too long, and now you know._

Now that he knows how Eddie’s lips feel, he wants more. He wonders what they’d feel like against his own lips, against his neck. 

Buck groans, squeezes his eyes shut, and begs for sleep to take him.

It doesn’t.

**

Buck awakens to the familiar click of Christopher’s crutches against the floor and he groans, throwing his arm over his face. 

“Buck!” Christopher calls far too loudly for whatever time of the morning it is. Buck feels like he finally just closed his eyes. The couch shifts under the added weight as Christopher finds space for himself.

Buck grunts incoherently, forcing his eyes open and taking in the boy’s gleeful face. “Hey, bud,” he manages, voice thick with sleep.

“Christopher,” Eddie scolds from the doorway. “I told you _not_ to wake him up.”

“I was already awake,” Buck grumbles, shifting himself upright.

“You sure were,” Eddie smirks, and Buck thinks that look should be illegal. 

Buck glares at Eddie playfully, pulling Christopher closer to him on the couch. “Well, it’s almost time for breakfast and he wasn’t even awake yet.”

“What’s your dad making for breakfast?”

Christopher frowns. “Last time dad burned the pancakes,” he whispers loudly. “Can you make breakfast?”

“Hey! I’m standing right here, Christopher.” Eddie’s eyes widen at how easily his kid just ratted him out. 

“Sorry, Dad,” Christopher apologizes before he turns back to Buck. “So, will you make breakfast?”

“Wow,” Eddie says, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout.

Buck laughs loudly. “I will make you a perfectly cooked breakfast. Come on, Christopher, you’re helping. _Someone_ in this house needs to know how to make a proper breakfast.”

**

Today’s shift effectively drained Buck of every ounce of energy he had. The last call took Buck back to a time that he wishes he could forget. He swallows hard as he steps into the locker room and opens his locker with an unusual roughness.

When they arrived on the scene, the victim was already pinned under the car. They worked together efficiently enough, Hen and Chim checking vitals before the man was loaded into the ambulance. And the driver was going to be okay, so it was good news.

But, fuck, if Buck wasn’t trapped under the ladder truck again for a few suffocating moments. Now, as the shift ends, he feels the pain in his leg flare up at the memory. He grimaces and changes his shirt, before slamming his locker shut.

“You okay, Buck?” Chimney asks, grabbing his bag from his locker with Hen at his side as they prepare to clock out.

“I’m fine. Tell Maddie I said ‘hey’, alright?” Buck says, his voice gravelly. Chim agrees without argument and he walks out of the locker room with Hen.

Eddie tosses his bag on the bench, closing his locker. “So, you gonna tell me the same lie?”

Buck is exhausted and rubs his forehead. “What?”

“That you’re okay.”

“I am _fine_ , Eddie. It’s just been a long shift and I’m tired.”

Eddie’s forehead creases. “I don’t think he asked if you were _fine_ , he asked if you were okay. I think we both know-”

“Please spare me the lecture,” Buck grits out, grabbing his bag and walking towards the door. “I appreciate the concern, I do, but I’m fine.” He walks out, and if Bobby’s eyes linger on him as he makes his way to the parking lot, Buck doesn’t notice. 

“ _Evan-”_ Buck’s head lowers upon hearing Eddie use his given name. After a couple of seconds, Eddie comes up behind him and rests his hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Look, just… I don’t have Christopher tonight. Why don’t you come over?”

Buck hesitates. He wants to say yes because there is a comfort he finds in Eddie that he’s unable to find anywhere else in the world. But when he is feeling like this, so triggered, he needs to just burrow into himself until it’s over. Until he can pretend like the rest of Los Angeles, that he too only watched a firefighter be crushed by a ladder truck. 

“Yeah, I’ll stop over,” he concedes.

The drive to Eddie’s is quick. He tries to use that time to calm the ache in his leg and the anxiety that buzzes just below the surface of his skin. Buck parks the Jeep, sitting in the driveway for a minute before he forces his legs to move him forward to Eddie’s door.

Eddie is pulling open the door before Buck has the chance to knock. “Hey,” Buck says quietly as he steps inside.

“Do you want something to drink, maybe some tea?” Eddie suggests.

“Some tea?” Buck’s forehead creases as he levels Eddie with an exasperated look. “What is this, Eddie?”

Eddie walks across the kitchen putting a tea kettle on. “This is me being worried about you.”

“Eddie, I’m-”

“I swear to God, if you say you are fine _one_ more time,” Eddie realizes he’s raising his voice, and he takes a moment to collect himself. He chooses his next words more carefully. “There was a time that we couldn’t talk to each other, and you beat yourself up for not being there for me through my-”

“-street fighting phase?” Buck finishes for him.

Eddie nods, setting two mugs on the counter and depositing the teabags in them. “You’re not the only one with shortcomings, Buck. I should have been there for you more, but I can’t go back in time to fix that.” He looks at Buck with a sincere gaze. “But I can be here for you now.”

Buck watches as Eddie steps over to the whistling tea kettle, pouring water in each of the mugs. Eddie’s words sink in and he realizes for the first time in a very long time, that maybe he doesn’t have to just bury this. They had a shitty shift and it triggered Buck’s memory of being trapped under the ladder truck. 

Buck would be so angry at Eddie if he was feeling this way and he chose to bury it. “Here,” Eddie holds out the steaming mug of tea before they walk out to the living room. Buck sits on the couch with a sigh while Eddie sits beside him. Buck is silent, then feels Eddie’s fingertips light against his wrist. “Talk to me.” 

“It was the last call,” Buck admits, taking a few small sips from the mug, daring a quick glance at Eddie. “It, uh, it took me back to being under the ladder truck.” He swallows, feeling Eddie’s fingers still at his wrist, and Buck is sure that Eddie can feel his pulse thundering. “Most days I don’t even think about it, I don’t even consider it. I know I survived through it, but, uh, seeing that guy trapped, it - it just brought me back to those moments of helplessness, of being so convinced that that was it. That was going to be how I died.”

Eddie’s eyes are soft, his thumb sweeping over Buck’s skin in a soothing motion. “If you had said something, I’m sure Bobby could have moved us around. So you didn’t have to be in there, so _close_ to what was happening.”

Buck meets Eddie’s eyes. “That’s not what I want, Eds. I love being a firefighter. Me being upset about something that happened to me doesn’t mean I can’t do my job.”

“You’re right,” Eddie agrees, setting down his mug. “It doesn’t. But next time? Don’t pretend it’s nothing, because it’s this huge thing that happened to you. This huge thing that you _survived_. Just because you survive something, it doesn’t mean it’s forgotten.”

“Next time,” Buck says carefully, “I’ll ask for help.” Buck muffles a yawn as he leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes.

“Why don’t you crash here tonight? I’ve got some extra joggers, and Chris insisted on picking out a toothbrush for you _just in case_.”

Buck feels too tired to drive, so he agrees. He drags himself down the hallway to the bathroom and changes into Eddie’s spare pair of joggers, which are a couple of inches too short. His eyes land on the toothbrush laid out for him, and he lets out a hearty laugh. Buzz Lightyear. Of course that’s what Christopher chose for him.

He makes his way back to the couch and lies down, adjusting the bottoms of the joggers so that it covers as much of his jagged scarring as possible. He reaches for the throw on the back of the couch, tossing it over his lower half as he lays back, trying to get some sleep.

His eyes close, setting into the quiet of the living room. Buck is comforted by the familiarity there, Eddie’s home becoming more and more like an extension of his own.

Buck can’t help but wonder what he’s done to deserve someone like Eddie in his life, someone who’s willing to drop everything just because Buck needs him. His breaths stretch out, becoming slower and deeper as Buck settles, on the cusp of sleep.

A familiar press of lips against his forehead begins to pull Buck out of his slumber. Buck considers laying there, pretending to be asleep like last time. Before he knows what he’s doing, “Eds?” His voice sounds tinny, opening his eyes to find Eddie bent over him, standing after the tender kiss.

“B-Buck,” The stutter in Eddie’s voice is obvious, and the unsure tone of his voice sounds so foreign to Buck. “Go to sleep,” Eddie manages and Buck sits up a little, propping himself on his elbows, a slow smile crossing his lips at Eddie’s obvious despair.

“I thought you wanted me to talk.”

“I think you’re all talked out for tonight,” Eddie says.

“And what about you?” Buck asks quietly, his eyes lingering on Eddie’s face. “Are you going to talk about _this_?” he asks, gesturing between the two of them.

Eddie opens his mouth as though to talk, then closes it. He watches as Buck sits more upright on the couch and he sits in the empty space by Buck’s feet. When it seems like Eddie might choke on his words, Buck helps him out a little. “The first time you did that, I was pretty sure I’d imagined it,” Buck says, “then when I crashed here last time, I wasn’t totally asleep, and…” 

“Shit, I didn’t mean to make things awkward,” Eddie finally says and the look of regret on his face nearly guts Buck.

He shifts closer to Eddie. “Things don’t have to be awkward, Eddie.” He swallows the swirl of the unknown in his stomach and surges past it. “I like it when you do it. That’s why I didn’t stop you last time.”

“And this time?” Eddie asks, his elbows propped against his knees as he leans forward.

“And this time,” Buck whispers, “I wanted you to know that I didn’t want you to do it just when I’m asleep. _Why_ did you do it?”

“I-” Eddie stops, shifting his body until he faces Buck, “because when you’re here, Buck, things just feel better. More complete. I... have feelings for you, and I guess I should have just said that instead of tip-toeing around here like an idiot.”

“Maybe,” Buck grins, fingers settling against Eddie’s back and leaning against Eddie, his head against Eddie’s shoulder. “But where is the suspense in that?” Buck sees the moment that it registers with Eddie that Buck isn’t pushing him away, that he wants this too.

Eddie chuckles as he relaxes, coming to terms with being Buck’s human pillow, and places a tender kiss against his forehead. His lips travel to Buck’s cheek, leaving another soft kiss there, and places his fingers beneath Buck’s chin, tilting his face upward. “Should I leave you in suspense until tomorrow?”

Buck narrows his eyes at Eddie. “Absolutely not,” Eddie chuckles again, placing a delicate kiss against Buck’s lips.

Eddie withdraws, shifting against the couch as Buck leans against him. “Goodnight, Buck.”

“Night, Eds,” Buck whispers, eyes closing as he settles more comfortably against Eddie’s chest, the sound of Eddie’s heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
